


Secret Origins

by Moirae (TigerDragon), TiaNadiezja



Series: Journey [1]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mystery, Other, Superheroes, secret origin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-14 03:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18044420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerDragon/pseuds/Moirae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiaNadiezja/pseuds/TiaNadiezja
Summary: Melissa has always been sick. But when she misses her medication, the end result is very unexpected indeed.





	1. Chapter 1

Melissa laughed as she fell into bed. It had been a  _ long _ day - breakfast, classwork that was  _ very _ math-intensive, a surprisingly heavy lunch, more classwork that involved teaching herself some calculus so she could keep up with some of the older students, leaving class to join a group walking to Burger Duke for an Archduke Burger (her appetite was… startlingly strong… the last few days), then meeting with Amare ( _ Amare _ with his  _ eyes _ and his  _ smile _ and his  _ shoulders _ and his  _ actually knowing the difference between a tachyon and a positron _ ) to talk about their gravitational model of the Earth sphere then making progress on actually building it… yes, it was a long day.

A long day, but a  _ good _ day. Melissa curled around her pillow a little, ignoring the glares from her roommate - Heidi, black hair, pretty in all the wrong ways if the goal was to catch Melissa’s eyes, there studying chemistry - and closing her eyes. Since about a week into the program, she’d started getting sleepy as soon as the sun went down. No surprise, given how much work she was doing and how much fun she was having. So she let her eyes fall closed, tucking her pillow in against her, to drift toward…

_ I forgot my meds… _ Somehow, her inner voice for that particular bit sounded exactly like her father. 

_ You need to take your meds every single day. _ Tom Hailey was a tall, lanky man, and he’d always tended to bend down and crouch to look her in the eye when she was little, instead of sitting or kneeling down like mom did. It always made him look like he was folding up, like a nice praying mantis with kind eyes that were so serious behind his glasses.  _ Every single day, baby, twice a day. I know they taste bad and it’s not fun but you need them. It’s important. Will you do that for me? _

_ I need to take my meds… _ Melissa started to roll over.  _ But I feel fine. I’m breathing well. I have energy… and I really really want to sleep, and the inhaler always wakes me up… I’ll just make sure I take it in the morning… _

_ Show me your checklist, honey.  _ Her mom - Miranda - had made her keep one for years and years and years. Her teachers had to initial it, friend’s parents, anywhere she went. Two doses a day, every day.  _ I know it’s frustrating, but you know how much we love you. We just want you to be okay. _

_ The RA has it. _ Melissa tucked the pillow in closer.  _ I’m fine. Look… _

She took a deep breath, let it out. Another. The air was sweet, and she tasted the edge of… chocolate?

Her parents worried. So much. Babied her so much. More than she needed. But... but they loved her so much. Maybe she should....

She was asleep before she finished the thought.

 

* * *

 

“But do you  _ like _ like Melissa?” Boy. Loud. Shouting down on sidewalk? Didn’t sound like shouting, but loud.

“I mean, she’s... you know, she’s cute, right?” Amare, trying to sound casual. Cool. Could you sound cool that loudly? “And she’s really smart and funny. But you know, it’s just a thing. Flings make problems, right? You gotta keep your eyes on the prize.”

_ On the prize… _ Melissa stirred, kicked at her blankets, pulled herself out of the tangle they’d settled into around her. What did that even mean? On the prize… she managed to get the blankets to the floor, reached for her inhaler.

“Nah, man, you’re totally into her. Don’t even play.”

“No front, I’m just trying to get through these classes!”

Inhaler in hand, she went to the window. She could look out, catch a glimpse of him…

Her head bumped the glass, hard enough to make a sound. She stepped back, rubbing her head where she hit it.  _ The window’s closed. How did I…? _

She managed to find an angle to see the sidewalk. Neither Amare nor any of his friends was anywhere in sight.

She rubbed her head, seeking a bump. There was no bump. There was no pain where the bump should be.

None of this made any sense at all. She closed her eyes, shut out the world besides her hearing. Listened.

_ Heidi’s still in the shower. I swear, she’ll use the whole building’s hot water if we let her. _

_ This is Train Tracks, bringing you the best eclectic mix of sound. You know, I was in California the other day and this woman came up to me and said you should tell Sirius you should have your own station.... _

_ I can’t believe they ran out of waffles. The pancakes aren’t nearly as good as the waffles… and now our table’s got no blueberry syrup either. Can  _ **_someone_ ** _ get a guy some blueberry syrup? _

**_Crunch!_ ** That was loud, close… her eyes opened, and she looked down. In her right hand, the crushed remains of her inhaler rested accusingly. The plastic of the device itself was ruined, shattered in a dozen places, and the steel tube that held her medicine was twisted around indentations the size and shape of her fingers.

“What the fuck?” At least her own voice didn’t boom through the room. “What. The fuck?”

_ I… superpowers. That’s the only explanation. Advanced beneficial metahuman traits. I’m a metahuman. With the power to… hear my crush say that he’s not enough into me to let it distract him from classes from across campus and crush small medical devices in a single accidental squeeze. I need a shower. I need a shower, then I need… _ Her eyes fell on the old, LED alarm clock her dorm room came with.  _ I need a very fast shower and to get to breakfast right now! _

 

* * *

 

It was very, very fortunate that Melissa had a case full of pencils. And that she preferred simple wooden pencils over mechanical pencils, and that sixteen years of life with a serious disability had made her very good at being discreet so nobody had noticed her breaking any of the six pencils she broke before she figured out how to moderate her grip strength while concentrating on a difficult problem. Super strength was, she decided, not all it was cracked up to be. Everyone talked about the lifting cars and the stopping Metallo from destroying the city; nobody mentioned the destruction of the last two pencils from the best pack of them you’d ever owned.

Also, the hearing thing was really distracting. Every time someone shifted or coughed or scraped their chair, it felt like that person was  _ right next to her _ and that had contributed to two of the broken pencils. And sometimes she’s even pick up what she was pretty sure were heartbeats or the sound of people’s lungs moving and that was really, really freaky.

And right now, somebody’s heart was beating really fast and it was distracting and she was dreading hearing everyone get up and move at the same time and...

“Hey, Melissa, you okay?” Amare said.

She turned her head, expecting to see him across the room, then nearly jumped out of her skin when he was next to her instead. Looking at her. Concerned. How could he do concern so prettily?

For once, ‘sometimes boys or girls are hot’ was the simplest problem she could work.

“I’m okay, I think. I’m actually really good.” Melissa blushed, and fought down the worry that she might have radioactive blushes now. “Hungry. Definitely hungry.”

“You want to go get lunch or something?” he said, casually, except....

Oh. That was  _ his _ heart beating that fast.

And hers. She could hear hers, too. That was disconcerting.

“Let’s!” She jumped to her feet, caught the chair with one hand before the force of her motion sent it careening into the desk behind her, and grinned. “Let’s have lunch. Lunch is good.”

Lunch  _ was _ good, but very very strange. There was Amare, and he was wonderful, and a couple of his friends who were still pretty cool, but also the sounds of every conversation nearby and people breathing and  _ digesting _ and that was the least appetizing thought but she was hungry again the moment she stepped inside the cafeteria and she could taste her own pizza when she was eating it but between bites she could also taste Amare’s sandwich and Tony’s chicken and those were not a good mix of flavors especially when you added the mashed potatoes and gravy the student behind her was eating and…

And she  _ had to _ get these senses under control. They were making paying attention to Amare difficult. And he kept commenting on that.

“Just tired, I guess,” she said the third time he asked if anything was wrong.

“You want to go to the campus medical center?” It was sweet of him to ask. Medical professionals were also maybe the last thing she wanted to be near right now. Except that boy in the corner listening to stuff-she-could-not-unhear on his headphones.

“No… I’ll be okay. I think I’ll feel better when we get outside… maybe it’s stuffy in here?” Stuffy was a word for it, so overloaded with the smell of people and food. “Thank you. I mean it. Thank you.”

“Sure,” he said, and he smiled. “I’m basically done anyway. It’s a nice day outside. Sunny.”

It was. Brilliantly, beautifully sunny. It felt like being bathed in light, which would have been more soothing if she hadn’t also been intermittently bathed in the conversation of half the campus.

Still, it felt good, and invigorating. She smiled to Amare, and just barely stopped herself from reaching for his hand. “Better already,” she said with a smile.

“I’d say she’s a four, but her butt’s a ten,” said a boy three buildings away, from inside the building. At least she was getting better at pinpointing these voices?

“Hey,” he said, “my sister has this game she likes. She says it’s soothing. Want to try it?”

“At this point… yeah. I’ll try a soothing game,” Melissa said.  _ As long as it’s silent. Or has a cone of silence around it. Or… yeah. Game. With Amare. _

“Name five things you can see, and take a deep breath between each of them,” he suggested softly. 

_ Sensory game with Amare. Well… at least I don’t seem to have super vision. Or maybe there’s just buildings or the curve of the planet blocking it. I guess I’d have to look into space to know for sure. Or be on an airplane. _ “The science building,” Melissa said, then drew a breath.  _ The hum of dry ice being released onto electromagnets. Lectures from a dozen rooms about a dozen different topics. Someone just blew up a beaker. _ “The quad.”  _ Footfalls, running feet. A girl telling a boy she’s not interested. A boy telling a girl he’s very interested. The erratic heartbeat of someone trying and failing to meditate. A leaf falls early, brushing the grass. _ “The pond.”  _ The kicking feet of two ducks, dancing on the water. Ripples in the water as someone throws seed in, creating ripples in the air I can hear. _ This was better. Focusing on one place at a time… was better. “The sky.”  _ Three crows call out to each other, the tone of their caws far richer than I could ever have imagined. A plane far overhead… air passing through its jet engines. _ She looked to Amare. “Pretty boy.”  _ A hitch in his breath, an increase in his heart rate. _

He paused a moment, looking at her, his eyes a little wider, and then he shifted a half step closer to her - she could hear every sound his shoe made on the walkway. “Four things you can touch,” he said, quietly, a little hint of a smile on his lips. Shy, maybe, but not that shy.

She blushed.  _ Don’t use his heartbeat as evidence. That’s not fair. _ She reached to her side, first. “My purse.”  _ Leather, the most vivid blue, the stitching a bit of a mess because I’ve been using it for too long. I can feel the individual threads… _ “My wallet.”  _ Plastic, hard, I thought it had no texture… the different dyes in the plastic feel different. _ She stepped forward, hand brushing the loose edge of his shirt. “Your shirt.”  _ The weave a complex symphony of textures and thicknesses, repeating machine-precisely but not precisely enough I couldn’t tell just where my fingers were from the imperfections. _ She met his eyes. If her blush was radioactive, he and everyone around were certainly doomed. “Your hand.”  _ Skin that looks smooth… micro-fine hairs, the flow of blood in the capillaries. The tensing of muscles as he tries to decide whether to wrap his fingers around mine. _

“Yeah,” he said, and his fingers closed around hers, and she felt/heard his heart thump harder. The way his irises contracted and relaxed subtly looking at her, away, looking back. “You’re doing great. Really great. Um. Three things you can hear?”

_ This one’s the dangerous one. _ She focused again, on the area around them. “Your voice.”  _ Rich. Pleasant. I want to hear him sing. _ “Those guys over there, arguing.”  _ A point of economic philosophy. Typical. _ “Cars. One of them is rattling somewhere.”  _ It’s in the wheel well. Maybe brakes? Brakes rattling are bad. I should learn what that sounds like… _ “My heartbeat…”  _ Stable. Faster than usual. More regular than it was before we started this… _

“That’s four, but I don’t mind...” he whispered, smiling and giving her hand a squeeze. Was he closer or did it just feel that way? “Extra credit. Um. Two things you can smell?”

“The flowers in the garden.”  _ Sweet, a cacaphony of smells, all pleasant but far too many… _ “You.”  _ Warm, human. A little sweat. A cologne with something floral and something spicy. Better than the flowers. _

“I’m supposed to say one thing that you can taste next but I...” His other hand came up, brushing her face, and she could hear his heart hammering and feel the pulse of his blood in his fingertips, and it was barely any distance at all between them really in the cosmic scheme of things and she thought she might be hearing planets whirling in their orbits right now.

She took that last step, standing against him. Too close to be anything but intimate, anything but inviting.  _ I’m probably a metahuman. I have no idea what that’s going to mean. But if he’s as interested as his heart makes it sound like he is… this doesn’t scare me. It would have yesterday. Bigger things now. _

She tilted her head back to look up at him, and smiled.

He bent down, and he kissed her. Kissed her. 

_ Kissed her. _ Her eyes closed, and she lifted herself into the kiss, her hand coming to rest on his arm. She could hear his heartbeat, the flow of blood in his veins. Taste his lips. As she relaxed into it, she found her focus staying on the kiss while her senses reached out, grasping for the full context of the moment - the bubbling of the stream across campus, the wind in the upper atmosphere, a dozen then a hundred than a thousand then a million voices speaking about things inconsequential and incredibly important, things personal and things that could change the world. But she was kissing Amare, and that was what mattered.

The whole world unfolded for her, but, for the first time since her senses changed, she knew exactly where she was in it.

“Wow,” he whispered when he drew back, his fingers slowly tracing her face. “That was... wow.”

“You’re telling me…” She blushed.  _ And you have no idea. Better that way. _ “Wow.”

A train shook loose a railroad spike a hundred miles away. She tucked herself into Amare’s arms and closed her eyes.  _ At least until we go back to class. Until then, this is enough. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melissa learns more about her powers, and suspicions begin to rise about her background.

It had been deeply, deeply bizarre to look into a container of diluted acid and  _ count _ the molecules of water and those of acid and the three free-swimming bacteria that occupied it in that instant before becoming four then six, but at least it meant she knew she’d gotten the concentration right. Maybe she’d try to figure out what species the bacteria - archaea? - were later. But it was only once she was outside in the sun again that Melissa realized it had been days since she’d felt physically tired. Emotionally drained, almost constantly when she wasn’t with Amare (and time with Amare probably wasn’t helping with that, just helping her ignore it). Sleepy, every night almost as soon as the sun went down. Intellectually exhausted, absolutely, even if it felt she was barely tapping the edge of what she was capable of in most of her classes. But not  _ tired _ . Not winded, no muscle aches. No difficulty breathing.

She’d been without her meds for more than two days, now. She hadn’t touched her rescue inhaler except to make sure it was in her pocket or purse in the morning. And she drew a deep breath once she was fully out of the shadow of the science building, let it fill her lungs with oxygen and nitrogen and her mouth and nose with the scent and taste of the pine trees and the garden and someone barbequing at least three blocks away.

Then she ran.

She broke out into a jog, first, to make sure that the moment she let her heart rate get up for anything but the anticipation of a kiss her lungs wouldn’t simply explode. Or implode. When they failed to do either, she sped up to a trot, moving past the dorms and toward the sidewalk at the edge of campus. When she got there, she hit a full run, making a near-circuit of the campus before turning off to the track.

She jumped the fence rather than stopping to unlatch the gate. If the track was the length of a normal track, it would be about a quarter-mile. As she crossed the starting position for the outermost lane, she broke into a sprint. One lap. Two. Four. Six. If anything, each step was easier, lighter,  _ quicker _ , than the one before. The motion of her body against the still air created the illusion of wind, and she laughed into it. When it got windy, she’d always had to flee, to retreat, to protect her lungs. Now, she made her own wind, ran into it, demanded it give way to her. Twelve laps. Sixteen.

Twenty.

She slowed, brushing a hand through her hair - it was a mess, tossed and tangled by the wind of her run. Touched her brow. Dry - not a drop of sweat. Five miles, plus her run before she got to the track, and she felt as fresh as she had when she started. Better.  _ Alive. _

“Hey,” shouted a guy trimming the hedges from the other end of the track, “how long you been a runner?”

“Since yesterday,” she called out, before trotting over to him. She wasn’t sure that, if she wasn’t on a date, she’d ever  _ walk _ anywhere again. “I think I’ve got some talent.”

“Some talent!” he called back, staring after her. “Some damn talent,” he whispered when she was around the corner, but she heard him anyway.

So. Apparently she could run without getting tired for... well, longer than she’d probably ever need to. She could add free-running champion to her list of possible life-goals along with microscope free lab work and... and... 

What else could she even do?

“All right…” She turned off the sidewalk, into the back ways of campus. Vaulted a hedge taller than herself from standing - with her strength, that part made sense - then stopped when she saw a penny half-buried in the grass. Picked it up. Focused on it.

She could not read a penny’s history by touch. She scratched clairvoyance off the list of potential abilities for the moment, then laid the penny flat across her palm.

It did not move or bend, no matter how hard she tried to convince it - including by employing her excellent skills at rhetoric - to do so. Telekinesis was out, too. Though... was it warmer than when she’d started? It felt warmer. Actually, it felt almost as hot as the pot she’d grabbed when she was five. The pot had burned her, though, blistering her skin; the penny did nothing of the sort. Pyrokinesis? Maybe.

She spun, threw the penny upward with all her strength. Up it sailed… and up… and up… and up… before slowing, stopping, falling back toward the Earth. Conservation of energy said that, discounting air resistance, it would fall with the same energy she used to throw it, which would be very fast indeed. She took three steps back, ran those three steps forward again, jumped.

Landed, penny in hand. Reflexes and kinesthesia to match her strength and speed and endurance? That was a yes. Conveniently.

It would make not breaking her rescue inhaler easier.

Also, she was starting to make a list in her head of superheroes she saw on the news who had less talent than she had. It wasn’t a  _ huge _ list, but it was getting bigger.

“I’m a superhuman,” she whispered to herself. “Not just a meta with a few little powers that make life more convenient… full-on superhuman.” She drew a few deep breaths to get her emotions back under control.  _ I could shatter a brick. I can feel that, in my hands. I feel… untouchable. _ It was terrifying.

It was  _ giddy _ .

She went with the more pleasant of those feelings, and burst out in laughter as she started back toward the dorms.

 

* * *

 

Kissing was nice. Kissing in private, alone without anyone to interrupt because Amare’s roommate was off with  _ his _ girlfriend, was nicer. Kissing enough to forget that the end of the program in two weeks would mean them being hundreds of miles apart and them probably having to break up and that she still wasn’t sure about the extent of her powers was nicer still, especially when kissing Amare put her in such a good place with her senses.

Having his hands on her was even nicer, but made her nervous. His hand under her blouse was the nicest thing of all, but… she wasn’t ready for more. Even with everything else, she wasn’t ready for more. And if she’d stayed there, more would have happened.

It hurt to end it there. Not emotionally - she and Amare had talked and they’d definitely be making out again tomorrow.  _ Physically. _ She  _ wanted _ things to keep going, to go further, in ways that it was painful to deny. Painful to leave denied.

Amare’s roommate was out, but Heidi would be very, very in. Whatever social life she had, it ended at six o’clock sharp. Asking her to vacate the room so Melissa could have some alone time had earned her a long glare and absolutely no movement when she’d done so on their second day rooming together.

So, every other option expended, she was left with only one choice. This late - just before sundown - the academic buildings would all be empty. There were security cameras inside them and on the doors, but not on the roofs. Most lacked roof access entirely, if one weren’t a master of free-climbing or parkour.

Or a superhuman.

From standing, she wasn’t sure if she could make the three-story leap to the roof of the drama building, with its high walls around the roof area. But with six steps of a running start?

Easily. She landed in the center of the flat portion of the roof, turned, and grinned at the sun. That was  _ never _ going to get old.

It not getting old did not relieve her of her problem, though, and she blushed.  _ Any port in a storm. _ She spread the sheet she’d grabbed before coming out here over the tile of the roof - it couldn’t dig into her skin, not any more, but it  _ seemed _ more right - and laid down on it.

Slid her hand into her pants, then thought better of that. Opened her pants. It wouldn’t do to tear them in superstrong thrashing. Tugged them down to her knees, with her panties. Blushed deeper.  _ I’m on a roof. This is absurd. But no one will see me… _

Checked again… the nearest drone, with its high-pitched spinning blades, was miles away.

Settled her fingers against herself, closed her eyes, pictured Amare’s face.

Better. Pictured Amare kissing Nightwing. Yes, that would do just fine.

It felt… good. Vivid, in ways it never had before, the minutae of the sensation of her fingers against herself sending sparks of brilling light through her nerves. It was all she could to to keep her sounds to a minimum as she writhed under her own hand, the feeling of it driivng away the need to keep a constant fantasy pictured in her mind.

She felt  _ fire _ in her as she rose toward her peak, pressing harder, moving faster. A kind of burning she’d never imagined. And, when she got there, her eyes shot open, and she screamed.

The world seared itself in crimson as she felt the fire rush out through her eyes, and as she turned her head in her pleasure it seared across the sky, blasting chunks of brick off the wall surrounding the roof, scorching through what remained to leave the grooves it cut smooth, blackened with melted clay and mortar.

She forced her eyes closed, drew a breath to keep from panicking. Another. A third. Somewhere someone’s kid was reciting the multiplication tables - that was good for a sharp dip in libido. The fire slowly receded, and she let her eyes open.

The wall was still broken and scorched, but she was still alone on the roof.

_ Lasers. Lasers from my eyes. When I get off? _ That was a question that demanded answering  _ immediately. _ She turned her eyes upward, focused, found that fire in her, bright and joyous even through her fear and all-consuming, and drew it out.

Crimson seared the world again, and twin beams of heat and light shot upward into the twilight. She pushed the fire down again, and the beams ended.

_ I have laser eyes. Heat vision. I have heat vision. _

She pulled up her pants, fastened them, rose to her feet. Froze.

_ I have heat vision. _

She leapt down from the roof into the bushes near the building, rolled through them, and started back to the dorms at a run.  _ This isn’t possible. This isn’t possible. _

**Author's Note:**

> The opening act of this story is a mystery, so I'd like you to bear with us as it's revealed. I hope it's as rewarding for you to read as it's been for us to write!
> 
> This story's written, in its entirety, and was before I started to post it. There's a sequel in the works now. I'm planning to release a chapter a week through the end of this story. Melissa's story is a definite labor of love for us.


End file.
